


Consequences of Abandonment

by thereyloaudioengineer



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: All Aboard, Alternate Universe, Dark Rey, Eventual Smut, F/M, Finn Ren, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jedi Ben Solo, M/M, Sith Lord Snoke, Sith Rey, Slow Burn, ben just kind of deals with it, choochoo mofuckers, like she will fuck your shit up, like straight up dark ass rey, rey belongs in a mosh pit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 18:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13664955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thereyloaudioengineer/pseuds/thereyloaudioengineer
Summary: Sith Rey. Jedi, bad boy Ben Solo. Its a backwards ass Star Wars "What If" fic that literally no one asked for! Following loosely to the timeline of events in The Force Awakens, into The Last Jedi, and eventually beyond. Enjoy kiddies.





	1. Chapter 1

“Touch down in three minutes, Ma’am. A squadron of Troopers has already begun securing the village, and I’ve received word that Lor San Tekka has been apprehended”.

“Phasma. If Tekka is harmed before I can question him on the map… there will be consequences”, Kira Ren said, the voice modulator in her mask making the threat sound all the more promising.

With a swift nod, the chrome plated captain retreated behind the Knight of Ren, off to ensure her Storm Troopers kept their hands to themselves and their touches gentle. Kira was told the man was quite elderly and therefore, fragile. It wouldn’t do for a Storm Trooper to break his body before she had the opportunity to break his mind, after all.

Kira Ren looked out the view port of her shuttle, into the cloudless night sky. Her head was pounding with the telltale signs of an impending migraine. It was the first time she had been back to Jakku since the Supreme Leader had ordered Hux, Phasma and a handful of Storm Troopers to her AT-AT on the dustball years ago. The red-haired man had had the most pinched look about his face and seemed more eager to get off the planet than even she had been. Kira recalled being quite surprised that Phasma hadn’t roasted alive in her metallic regalia that day, even if she was only off the shuttle for the three minutes it took them to collect her from her small desert home.

She wondered if her AT-AT was still there. If it had been scavenged like everything else on the force-forsaken planet. If her meager belongings had been taken, traded to Unkar Plutt for measly portions of veg-meat and polystarch.  She doubted that her entire collection of eclectic items could have fetched even an eighth portion, to even the most generous of junk bosses. The only thing that might have had the slightest value was the helmet of Doshmit Raeh, the Rebel Alliance pilot. Kira doubted it though.

Lost in her own head, Kira Ren neglected to notice the tell-tale lurch of her shuttle, signaling their arrival on the planets surface.

“Ma’am, we follow your command”, the captain softly said after several moments, as to not spook the girl out her commanding thoughts.

Regardless of how quietly or gently the captain spoke, Kira still jumped slightly at the voice in her ear.

“Obviously Captain. Come, we have work to do and I do not wish to be on this wretched planet any longer than necessary.”

Phasma could tell how on edge the young knight was by her clipped sentences. The voice modulator made it hard to distinguish the tone of voice that the girl had taken with the captain, but she supposed Ren was rather agitated, and for good reason. The captain knew how hard Kira’s life had been on the sand covered shit hole of a planet. It would serve more purpose as space dust in the captains eyes.

The Knight of Ren pivoted and proceeded to walk down the ramp of her Upsilon-class Command Shuttle, looking every bit the dark side user she was known to be. Her cowl drug the sand behind her, erasing the prints her heeled boot made.

_Like I was never here in the first place, like I never should have been._

Giving a herself a minuscule head shake, Kira Ren continued to stalk through the sand, her sights set on the wizened old man held between two storm troopers. She was here by order of her master, The Supreme Leader himself, and she would not, no, she _could not_ , disappoint him.

She paid no attention to the shabby huts, nor the villagers on their knees behind the old man, storm troopers pressing blasters to their heads, itching to be fired. She was here for one thing and one thing only, and Lor San Tekka was going to give it to the First Order, one way or another.

Stepping up to the old man, Kira Ren cocked her head slightly as she probed the man’s mind. She wasn’t searching for anything just yet; it had become a habit for her to peer into the minds of people she was not familiar with, a way of ensuring no one was able to take her by surprise.

Her master had told her of Lor San Tekka, how he had aided Luke Skywalker in his search for the ancient Jedi texts, and his firm belief in the light side of the force. With her masters rise to power, Skywalker had turned tail and ran into hiding, presumably to the First Jedi Temple, abandoning his preposterous “Jedi Academy” and the Padawan’s he presumed to teach. With Skywaker in possession of the Jedi texts, no one in the galaxy besides him seemed to know where the damned temple was.

Until Lor San Tekka discovered a partial map leading directly to the temple. It was Kira’s task to obtain the map and present it to her master, so that the Jedi would be on the path to extinction once again. 

“You know what I’ve come for.”

The old man took in the slight figure in front of him, blue eyes bright and shining with defiance. “So, this is the fearsome Kira Ren the galaxy has been buzzing about for the past several years. I wonder what made you give yourself over to the dark side? I wonder what your name was?”

Kira Ren bristled, shoulders tensing with the anxiety her past life brought forth. The old man seemed to have eyes that stared straight into her own soul, eyes that cut into her flesh and striped away the layers of defense she had built up since becoming the second most feared person in the galaxy.

On the fringes of her mind, she could sense a very nervous someone, hiding behind a dune to her right.

“You don’t know a thing about me Lor San Tekka. Where is the map to Skywalker? I know you have it!” she snarled through her mask, using anger to cover up her weakness like she had for years. It was second nature to her now.

“I wonder, if given the choice, would you have rose to the light the way you rose to the dark side so quickly? I think you would have.”

His comments seemed to worm their way under Kira Ren’s skin, making her noticeably shake with rage. Rage, she seemed unable to contain. The storm troopers behind her glanced to each other and began to inch slowly back, thinking it better for their immediate health.

“I’ll show you the dark side, old man”. Without giving another thought to the damned map, in the span of a breath, a long-hilted staff was in her hands, red plasma beams emerging with a shriek from both ends. In the same breath, one red beam slashed across Lor San Tekkas chest, while the other came back around to sever his head. It made a satisfying thump against the sand.

Suddenly, a single blue bolt from a blaster came from behind the sand dune Kira had noticed earlier.

Almost on instinct, Kira Ren brought her right hand up to wrap the blaster bolt in the force, halting its path to her chest, as well as the dark-haired man who fired it. She released the breath she had been holding in a rather loud huff. The two troopers who held Lor San Tekka’s headless body dropped it to the sand and ran to apprehend the force stunned man.

Instantly, Kira began to riffle through the man’s subconscious, seeing that he had indeed been given the map by the dead old man. Poe Dameron. Arguably the best pilot the resistance had ever seen. Enjoyed both male and female company in his quarters. Perhaps the mission wasn’t a complete failure after all. Before she had a chance to dive any farther into the recesses of the flyboys brain, the storm troopers deposited him at her feet.

Unwilling to let the chance pass her by, Kira crouched down in front of the man, doing her best to look as intimidating as she could.

“So, who talks first? You talk first, I talk first?” Dameron quickly mumbled. He was obviously attempting to cover his fear with humor. Kira was in no mood for it.

Suddenly, she reached out a leather gloved hand and fiercely grabbed hold of the man’s chin, turning it this way and that, looking for nothing, simply doing it because she enjoyed the power she held over her now prisoner. Her mask glinted in the fire light, making her concealed face all the more menacing.

Standing, she barked to the troopers “Put him on board! We have what we need”.

“Ma’am, the villagers?” Phasma questioned.

Kira paused beside the captain, her face reflecting perfectly in the silver chest plate. Even with her heeled boots, Kira Ren was still very small.

“Kill them all. I’m done here”. Stepping through the sand back towards her shuttle, she heard her prisoner offer some strangled sort of cry at her decision.

Kira assumed Phasma gave the kill order, because after stepping foot on the ramp leading into her shuttle, blaster fire and screams filled the air. It all set her teeth on edge.

“Hurry up!” She snapped at the storm troopers, who were having to forcefully drag Dameron up the ramp. The man was not being a very cooperative guest so far. The sooner Kira was able to get to her quarters on _The Finalizer_ , the sooner she might be able to get the insistent pounding in her skull under control.

 _Kriffing nine hells_ , she thought. The man was now trying to throw both troopers grips on his arms off. What did he really believe he could do against the First Order? What was the point of saving even one of the villagers, if he got himself killed in the process? She quickly rounded on the storm troopers, held up her right hand and sent the prisoner into a deep, force induced sleep. “Get him on the shuttle. I’m ready to go home”.

With all seemingly immediate threats dispatched, Kira was finally able to breath deeply. Flicking the emitter switch on her staff to kill the red plasma beams, Kira stowed her most beloved possession across her back and strode into the cockpit of her command shuttle, hands clasped firmly behind her back.

“You all done out there?”, a smooth, modulated voice from the pilot’s seat asked.

Nodding to her fellow knight of Ren, she sat in the smooth leather of the copilot’s chair, and stretched her legs, suddenly, so very _tired_. Tired of the pounding in her head. Tired of the hunt for Skywalker. Tired of feeling like the most disappointing apprentice in the galaxy. Tired of Finn Ren looking at her through his mask like he knew just exactly how tired she was of it all.

He was the only one of her knights that she couldn’t bear to put in a force choke for it. Her only friend, if she dared to even go that far, in the Sarlacc pit filled known as _The Finalizer_ filled with First Order generals, captains, storm troopers, and people who wouldn’t know The Force if it hit them square between the eyeballs. Finn Ren had been in the First Order storm trooper program when she had discovered his barely-there force signature. Kira remember the look of pride, no matter how slight it had been, that had graced her masters mangled face the day she had presented FN-2187 to his hologram.

“Who’s the hitchhiker Kira?” Finn Rens no-bantha shit tone made it clear that she wasn’t going to be able to ignore him the entire flight back to the star destroyer like she would very much prefer to.

“He knows where the map to Skywalker is. The old man entrusted it to him right before we showed up. I figured I’d let you try your hand at getting it out of him the old-fashioned way, and if that doesn’t do the trick, I can try my hand at it. He’s a pilot with The Resistance, that much I know, so you might have to work a bit harder to get what we want out of him”.

Finn Ren paused the pre-flight checks to glance at her. “Why didn’t you just pull it out of him when he tried to blow you to hell with that blaster? Seems like that would’ve been a bit easier than dragging him all the way back to the ship and trying to pummel it out of him.”

“Because, I am the one in charge of this mission, and if I say we interrogate the prisoner on _The Finalizer_ , we interrogate the prisoner on _The Finalizer_. You forget yourself, Finn Ren. Take us back to the ship and see to it the pilot makes it to the interrogation rack.” She had had quite enough of Finn Ren and his questioning of her actions. It was her job to bring about the end of the Jedi, her job to find every piece to the puzzle that would make that end possible.

She could not fail her master.

Reaching her gloved hand up, Kira pulled her cowl lower over her masked face, closed her eyes, and turned towards the window of the cockpit on her right. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she might be able to doze off before they docked with the star destroyer. Maybe her head would stop with its incessant throbbing. Though again, she doubted it.

Her headaches had started back up with a vengeance roughly a Galactic Standard year ago. She suffered from head splitting migraines when she was a scavenger on Jakku. Combined with the lack of water, malnutrition, and the simply hellish climate, it wasn’t a surprise. That had been one of the first things her master had cured her of. Or maybe it was the three square meals a day, all the water she could drink, and the actual bed, with a mattress and pillow and all the blankets she could want in the cold, dark corner of whatever part of space _The Finalizer_ happened to be residing in that day, that had cured her. They had begun again though, when she could begin to feel her masters displeasure at her progress in finding Skywalker. Her master saw it fitting that Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master, would be the last Jedi the galaxy would ever know. He would be the last to die. Kira Ren and her band of murder-happy knights had successfully hunted down every youngling and Padawan that Skywalker had attempted to train at his academy, after they had been returned to their families when the coward went into hiding.

Kira had argued with her master over the seemingly needless slaughter of the younglings. The Padawan’s, she could understand, as they were older, predominately teenagers set hard on the Jedi path. The younglings though… Kira believed to be moldable, bendable, impressionable. They were young enough, she stated, that they could be set down the path of the dark side with no residual light left in them. Snoke believed otherwise. He wanted only the purest to belong to the dark side, only those who had felt the hatred, the passion that the dark side offered to its followers.

That was the first time Kira Ren had begun to feel a spark, a lit match in the dark, dark recesses of her soul. It terrified her. Terrified her so much in fact, that she took that little glimmer of light and snuffed it out by running the hilt of her saber staff thru a child no more than seven years old.  She owed her very life to Snoke and she would not fail him by being tempted with the light side of the force. The light lied. The light deceived. The light turned its back on all emotion, all attachments. All the things that kept Kira Ren from falling apart at her jagged seams.

That day was the first time Kira had noticed that her hazel eyes, typically more green than brown, had taken to more of a yellow gold color. The sight did not disturb her as much as she supposed it would the average human female. This was her ultimate goal after all, to give herself completely to the dark side. To her master, the great Sith Lord Snoke. She supposed her eyes had gone completely to red by now, but she hadn’t thought to pay much attention to her reflection in the mirror lately. She had no desire to see how pale and gray her once golden skin had become, how sunken in and shallow her cheeks had become. The bags under her eyes likely consumed half of her face by now, considering how little sleep she had gotten as of late.

Either Kira’s brain refused to shut itself off, even after her exhausting nightly training regiment, or it racked itself with nightmares of a snow covered forest, flashes of blue and red, overwhelming pain and the smell of burned flesh. Some nights, the smell of charred muscle lingered in her nose enough to make her physically sick, running to the fresher to empty the contents of her stomach. Lately though, she had begun to indulge herself in the corellian whiskey that was brought onto _The Finalizer_ for the senior, higher ranking First Order officers. She had grown accustomed to the burn as it slipped down her throat, perhaps burning away the nightmares and traitorous thoughts that seemed to edge into her brain late in the night. If anything, it numbed the terror the dreams brought on. She would take the numbness over waking scared, confused, and sick any day.

Sensing their target fast approaching, Kira Ren opened her eyes to be greeted by the sight of the massive star destroyer, opening its hanger doors to allow her personal command shuttle entry. Within minutes, Finn Ren had set the large black craft down softly, and began flipping the switches to ensure proper engine power-down.

Suddenly, she stood, wishing for nothing more than to be alone. To be in her bleak quarters, with a bottle of whiskey, naked under a torrent of scalding water; scrubbing her body raw in hopes of cleansing herself of the memories returning to Jakku brought upon her.

“I’m retiring for the evening. Ensure that the prisoner is ready for me come morning, if you are unsuccessful in obtaining the location of the map tonight. He should awaken in the next hour or so, I didn’t knock him hard enough to be completely useless. Com if you specifically need me or if problems with the pilot arise, otherwise, don’t bother me”. With a sharp turn, Kira Ren marched to the back of the shuttle, hit the button to make the ramp drop, and marched quickly down into the hanger.

Tie fighters lined the walls, scaling force-knows how many meters high. Storm troopers and First Order officers parted before her slight form like she was a storm heading directly into their path. Which, in truth, she was. Her mind was a mess. If her master chose to look into her head at that very second, she had no doubt that she would be writhing on the floor while blood streamed from her nose and her jaw clenched in agony. Snoke did not take to his apprentice wasting her thought on the past, especially in her moments of weakness that had become more and more frequent in the past several years.

Navigating the long halls and turbolifts of the ship, Kira tried to clear her mind.

_Through passion, I gain strength._

_Through strength, I gain power._

_Through power I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

_The Force shall free me._

Reciting the Sith Code had become therapeutic to her. Some days, it was almost enough to send her into a slight meditative state, allowing her to clear her mind, even if for a minute. Enough for her to get a deep breath, center herself inside her mind, and feel the Force around her, calm once more.

A final turbolift ride later, and she arrived to on her floor in the living quarters section of the massive ship. Still reciting the Code of the Sith in her mind, Kira walked quickly to the door of her quarters, raising a hand, pulling off a glove, and pressing it to the lock pad. The hall was silent, apart from the sounds of the recycled air moving throughout the ventilation system. No one besides her resided on this level of the living quarters section. She preferred it that way. No one to see or hear her outbursts of pure rage, and certainly no one to wake up to her screaming from pointless nightmares.

Shaking her head to rid it of the self-deprecating thoughts, she stepped over the threshold and into her rooms.

Low light shone up from the edges of the floor, making the room seem slightly warmer and more inviting than it truly was. Black walls, black flooring, black desk, black bed, black cabinets… The only things that didn’t fir the monochromatic color scheme in her rooms were the sheets adorning her bed, and the pillows set upon her -surprise, surprise- black leather couch. Those were a light, dove gray. Reaching up to her jaw, Kira hit the release on her helmet, a hiss of air breaking the silence as the helmet disengaged. Setting the heavy metal headpiece on the table opposite her couch, Kira reached across her back to grasp the hilt of her saber staff and set it alongside the black and silver skeletal faux face. She began the process of disrobing. Helmet, staff, clasps to the cowl, the cowl itself, gloves, and the wide belt around her waist were the first things to come off, followed by her dark arm warps.

The wraps were the only items of clothing that she still wore that invoked any image of her past life. She favored the free range of motion she got with the wraps, rather than still bracers and molded guards her knights seemed to prefer. Shrugging out of the black vest, Kira continued her path to the small kitchenette, set on finding that magical bottle of amber liquid and something to eat. She left a trial of clothing behind her, reaching down to pull off her high stocked boots, carelessly throwing them to the floor.

Locating the cabinet where she stored her small assortment of liquor, she grabbed the bottle of corellian whiskey, tugged the stopper off and proceeded to take a long pull straight from the bottle.

Grimacing at the burn of the drink, the knight of Ren moved about the small island, on the hunt for a protein bar, or anything with nutritional value that would quell the garbling in her stomach. Emerging successful moments later from a drawer, she tore open the package and took a massive bite, effectively finishing half of her meal in the first bite. She chewed loudly, opened mouthed and washed it down with another swig of whiskey.

Shoving the last half of the protein bar into her gaping maw, Kira set down her drink and reached behind her to grab ahold of the loose, woven tunic she wore, and pull it over her head. It landed in a heap on the floor, followed shortly by her black pants. Standing in her small kitchen, bare except for her breast wrappings and underwear, she reached up to her head to undo the three tight knots on the back of her skull she used to keep her hair secure and from becoming caught in the mechanics of her mask.

Massaging her head with her thin fingers, Kira started off towards the fresher, opting to leave her liquid friend behind on the counter. Turning the water to damn near scalding, Kira turned towards her mirror covered wall, eyes closed. She felt around her chest for the end of the wrap, she began to unwind her breasts from the confines of the bindings. She dropped the wrap to the floor and slowly hooked her thumbs into the top of her panties and shimmied the undergarment down her legs, to pool around her feet.

Slowly, Kira Ren opened her eyes to the women that stood before her in the mirror.

The first thing she noticed was the shine her brown hair was lacking. It hung like a curtain, in waves that brushed the tops of her breasts, lackluster and dull. Next, came the paleness of her skin. The freckles that adorned her body were still noticeable, but were light, and blended into the seemingly gray tone her skin had taken on. Her breasts were small. They always had been, and probably always would be. Her abdominals were toned, as were her legs, the muscles easily identifiable in the harsh, white lighting of the refresher.

Taking breath to steal herself, Kira Ren looked to her face.

It was what she had expected. Pale, slightly sunken face, sharp cheekbones, fierce eyebrows, full, pink lips, slightly chapped. But her eyes.

She expected some red. Perhaps a bit webbing through the gold and intermingling with her natural hazel.

The eyes that stared back at her were pure gold, with red rimming the outer edges of the iris. She leaned in close to the mirror, searching for a hint, a speckle of green. She found none. Nothing but gold and red eyes, sitting too low in her face, atop purple and blue bags, bruised from lack of proper sleep.

She continued to stare at herself until the mirror fogged up from the heat of her shower.

Taking a shuddering breath, Kira Ren stepped into the spray of water, simply letting it run down her lithe form for a few minutes, enjoying the heat and pressure the water put on her aching muscles. Surely, she was far too young to ache this badly. Whatever demon in her head that had been banging on the interior of her skull had ceased his actions for the moment, so that was a bonus. Reaching out a hand to the dispenser in the wall, a dollop of light purple shampoo was deposited into her palm. Raking her fingernails across her scalp, Kira felt suds form in her brown trusses. The foam smelled lightly sweet, what she imagined fruit, or maybe flowers smelled like. Her body soap smelled the same. Rinsing herself free of the fragrant bubbles, she yet again stood, letting the water run cold against her body, hanging her head.

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion.  
_

_Through passion, I gain strength.  
_

_Through strength, I gain power.  
_

_Through power, I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

_The Force shall free me._

The mantra repeated in her head as she stepped out onto the cold tile floor and turned off the water. Grabbing a towel, Kira Ren attempted to dry herself as much as possible, before she brushed out her hair over one shoulder, and walked out of the warm and still steamy fresher.

One more long swig of the whiskey, then it was back in its dark cabinet, and Kira Ren was in her bed, the lights turning off with a wave of her hand and some force persuasion. 

_Through passion, I gain strength._

_Through strength, I gain power._

_Through power, I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broke._

_The Force shall free me._

_Through passion, I gain strength._

_Through strength, I gain power._

_Through power, I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

_The force shall free me._

_The force shall free me._

_The force shall…_

_The force…_

Reciting her mantra like a prayer, Kira Ren closed her eyes and drifted into the first dreamless sleep she had enjoyed in months.

 

*

 

Somewhere, light years across the galaxy, Ben Solo awoke in his bed, wide eyed, from a nightmare about a snow covered forest, and a girl with red rimmed, hazel eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day cycle found Kira Ren slightly more rested and in a better mood than those before, though not by much. 

Her sleep had been sound, save for the dream of a snow-covered forest, a glowing blue/white light, and deep, brown eyes framed by wild black curls. She had never dreamed of this man before. Perhaps her master would know what to make of it. Her nightmares typically revolved around being dumped on Jakku, deep seated hunger, and the beings she was to assume were her parents. She never saw their faces or heard their voices. The only thing she could ever remember of her parents was the silhouette of their retreating backs. 

The interrogation of the resistance pilot had yielded no information of value for Finn Ren. Bloody and bruised (but still full of snark; Finn Ren hadn’t managed to beat that out of him), the only thing of value Kira had been able to wrench from his mind was that the map had been passed onto the pilot’s personal BB unit. Which, unless the ball had grown legs, was probably rolling its way to Niima Outpost that very second, if it wasn’t already there. It seemed that nothing involving this Luke Skywalker would be an easy task. 

Walking briskly towards onto the bridge of The Finalizer, heel of her boots clicking sharply against the durasteel floors, Kira scanned the crew for the obscenely bright head of General Hux. 

“It’s in a BB Unit”, the vocoder in her mask hissed, stepping up beside the general, “Orange and white, masculine programming, very fast. More than likely, its already arrived at Niima, unless it was swallowed up by the Sinking Fields. I’d be willing to bet The Resistance has already sent someone to retrieve it, so I’d hurry up with the troopers”, Kira said with a slight smirk. She wouldn’t truly dare to tell Hux how to do his job. In her eyes, he was the finest military commander the galaxy had ever seen. 

“Easy, Ren. I’ve already sent out the orders, I’ll have your droid here within the day cycle. Should we inform the Supreme Leader of our progress?” Hux asked, looking down at her masked face, eyes shining with the fondness he carried for the woman. 

“There is no need to bother the Supreme Leader with tails of our shortcomings, General. We shall inform him when we have the map to Skywalker in our possession, and of nothing else. Until then, I leave this to you, General. I shall be in the training rooms; send a trooper when you have my droid and my map”, and with that, Kira Ren turned on her heel and marched back from whence she came. 

Armitage Hux stared after the slight knight, cowl trailing behind her and making her look like quite the overgrown bat. He was rather fond of her, and her flair for the dramatic, even when it seemed like she was ready to twist his head right off his shoulders. She had grown to be so much more than the starving desert rat he had pulled from the shell of the Hellhound II all those years ago. He dared say he was proud of the woman she had become. Her sheer fury, and her drive to locate Skywalker made her all the more fearsome. He found it rather attractive, age difference be damned. 

“Inform the squadron of the BB unit, and to keep a watch out for Resistance activity. She is right, the bastards may already have eyes out for the droid”, he snapped at Mitaka, seemingly flipping some internal switch and becoming the cold and calculating general once again. The nervous looking lieutenant relayed the information, and silently hoped that the general would find another space on the bridge to plant himself. 

 

“Kriffing hell Kira! Ouch!” Luka Ren yelped, gazing at his left thigh, where an angry looking burn mark resided under his now ruined trousers. 

Rolling her eyes under her helm, Kira hissed at her sparring partner, “If you didn’t leave the lower half of your body completely exposed, then-that-wouldn’t-happen.”, words accentuated by the hits she attempted to land on his large form, all now effectively blocked by his vibroblade. Her strikes were hard, and her arm seemed to vibrate all the way to her spine with each parred hit. 

They were both pouring sweat, and Luka Ren looked murderous, pale eyes, typically concealed by his mask, now glowing with anger. Kira was admittedly lucky that she managed to land a blow on her fellow knight at all. Luka was the fiercest physical opponent in the ranks of her knights, choosing, like her, to use a double-bladed weapon with edges sharp enough to take the hair off the hide of a Favier in a single swipe. 

“Break” Kira called, “Get some bacta on that, before it gets infected”, reaching up to undo her own mask. The hunk of metal was stifling, and slick around the front with perspiration. 

Tossing it to the padded floor of the training room, she walked to the conservator in the corner and pulled out two canteens of water. They had been sparring with each other hard for the several hours, neither one managing to land a hit on the other, until now. Luka Ren had become lazy in his defenses, relying on his large and intimidating form to give him the automatic offensive ground in a fight. Kira had made sure that was not the case today with her. Her small build made her quick, easily evading the gleaming blade of his weapon and allowing her to glide the plasma blade of her staff along his thigh.

“Here”, she levitated one of the canteens of water to her partner with the force, while physically prying open the seal to her own. Taking a large gulp of the cool liquid, she made her way back to where her knight sat against the wall of the training room, applying a small bacta patch to the cauterized wound on his thigh. 

“You’re an ass”, he grumbled.

“I got my point across, did I not? Stop being so damned over confident. One day, someone will get luckier than I, and they may decide to take your whole leg off. Which, by the way, I could have done, but didn’t, because I’d feel bad about it eventually.” Her tone had a light, teasing lift to it, but she was quite serious. The Supreme Leader demanded nothing but the best from both her and her four other knights, and it wouldn’t do for one of them to lose an appendage or their life, all because they opted to become laxed and comfortable in their physical training.

“We’re done for the day”, she said, summoning her mask with the force and placing it back on her head. 

Before Luka Ren could summon a reply, the blast door to the training room opened, and Lieutenant Mitaka barreled in, sweat gathered on his brow, looking quite frazzled. 

“Mitaka! What is it?” barked Luka, rising from his spot on the floor, and palming his own mask.

He towered over the First Order officer, advancing on the smaller man like a menacing wampa upon its prey. 

“Your presence is requested in the Supreme Leaders audience chambers at once”, Mitaka stammered, chin quivering and eyes flitting between the two Knights of Ren. “The both of you are to go; the general is to be there as well”.

Without giving the officer a second glance, Luke and Kira Ren pushed past Lieutenant Mitaka, and with sharp, hurried strides, entered the turbolift at the end of the hall.

“What is this about? Another mission, you think?” Luka quizzed her, before settling his mask over his large head. Kira minutely shook her head, but otherwise remained silent. Her hands shook for reasons unknown; her stomach was in knots, and she had the overwhelming feeling in the pit of her stomach that this was not good. 

The doors to the lift opened, and Kira and her fellow knight proceeded to the audience chamber. The long, gleaming hallway was, oddly, devoid of all storm trooper and personnel activity. Not even a droid could be heard scuttling about. The silence did nothing to quell the growing sense of unease in Kira. 

Suddenly, a sharp pain racked Kira’s skull, right behind her eyeballs. No, this was certainly not good. Her master was furious. Setting her teeth in a snarl against the pain in her brain, the small knight lifted a gloved hand to the scanner, and entered the chamber, Luka Ren in tow behind her. 

The Hologram of her master greeted her with a fury filled gaze, rising high above all others in its presence, the darkness almost given a physical presence in his anger. The hologram was larger than she knew her master to be, magnified to inspire fear in its audience.

General Hux, as well as the twin knights, Zaro and Taro Ren stood beneath her master. Taro and Zaro Ren were supposed to be stationed in another star destroyer in the outer reaches. They must have been the first summoned to arrive that quickly. The twin knights were bedecked in their monochromatic regalia, matching exactly, down the placement of the various blasters and throwing knives they chose to arm themselves with. 

The only one missing appeared to be Finn Ren, who always came when her master summoned, and was never the last to arrive.

This was not good. 

“Ah, my young apprentice”, the low, gravelly voice of the supreme leader spoke, his mangled face gazing upon her from across the cosmos, “how kind of yourself and Luka Ren to grace us with your presence.” Her masters tone carried fury, barely concealed. She hung her head in apology, sinking to a knee in front of the hologram. 

What had happened to anger her master so? They had the Resistance pilot in their custody, and the droid would soon be captured along with the map to Skywalker. She had done nothing to warrant her masters fury, as of late anyways. 

Perhaps, if she was lucky, the Resistance droid was already aboard the ship, being escorted to the audience chamber as her master spoke. Presenting him with the final piece, the map leading directly to Luke Skywalker would be more than enough to earn her masters forgiveness for whatever had displease him so. 

Beady gaze fixed on his pupil, Snokes voice boomed out into the room; “Kira Ren. It seems as if you have quite the problem on your young hands”.

“Master? I don’t quite understand?” her mask hissed, rising to look upon the Sith lord.

“Well then, my dear, dear apprentice, allow me to enlighten you as to what you have allowed to transpire upon your flagship in the last hour, while you chose to beat upon your fellow knight!” 

Without warning, Kira Ren’s mind had begun to be assaulted with images she couldn’t begin to make sense of. Her skull felt like it was being split in two.

Hux, writhing on the floor of the audience chamber, jaw wrenched open in a silent scream- security footage of the interrogation room- someone in a long, black cloak undoing the buckles, straps, and irons securing Dameron to the rack and escorting him into the hall- a flash of a mask, near identical to hers- the pair running along down the halls of the star destroyer, into the hanger- stormtroopers firing upon a tie fighter, fast flying out of the hanger-

“Ah!” Kira wrenched her head from the floor (how had she ended up on the floor?) with a strangled gasp. 

Finn Ren had released the resistance pilot. 

“Where is he Master? Where is Finn Ren?! I swear to you, he shall pay dearly for wha-“

“Silence girl! Your second has left the First Order! Defected. He is gone, the pilot along with him, off to procure the droid and the map to Luke Skywalker, the last of the Jedi masters!”

Kira could not breath. It was as if the air had been stolen right from her lungs.

Finn Ren had defected. Left. Gone away. 

“Knights of Ren, leave us. Return to your posts throughout the galaxy and await instruction. General; ready your weapon. It is time to send a reminder to the Resistance and the Republic of just how powerful the First Order is. Leave us.” Snoke hissed quietly. 

With low bows, each of the knights turned on heel and walked out of the chamber. Kira did not know when she would next see her followers. Luka and Finn Ren had been stationed on The Finalizer with her, but she doubted Luka Ren would be made to stay aboard the star destroyer. It seemed they all had work to do now. 

General Hux appeared to hesitate though; as if he wished to stay with the young knight. A hard look from Snoke had him following the rest of the Knights of Ren out of the audience chambers, with one last pitiful glance at Kira.

Finn Ren had defected. That was the only thing consuming Kira’s mind. 

Who could care about whatever super weapon Hux had cooked up. Who cared about the bloody Resistance. Finn Ren was gone. How could he have just left? The most loyal of her knights, her second in command, the only person she could half-way confide in on this ship, just-

Gone.

Finn Ren was gone.

Kira shook in rage. The darkness inside her roared, demanding a blood sacrifice for her pain, her agony over another abandonment, another desertion. She could feel the force in the air around her, snaking in between the connection she shared with her master, dark and sinister; stroked onward and upward to its full potential by Snokes presence in her head. 

Finn Ren would come to regret his decision. Kira, Master of the Knights of Ren, Sith and disciple of the dark side would make sure of that. 

 

Suddenly schooling her murderous and enraged thoughts, Kira Ren stood quickly, with purpose, raising her mask to stare into her master’s eyes. “Master. I swear to you” Kira spoke with earnest, “with your guidance, I will retrieve the map to Skywalker. I will find him, and together, we shall bring about the end of the Jedi. I will find Finn Ren, and he shall be made to pay for his betrayal. I swear it, by the force!”

Her voice trembled with passion, feeding the darkness that resided inside her soul and curled around her heart. She would do this. She would bring about the end of the Jedi and Finn Ren and everything that stood in her way of doing so. 

“Of this I have no doubt, my young apprentice. Where I expected weakness, I now sense resolve. You will be the one to bring about the end of the Jedi; but my young one, there has been a resurfacing. My pupil, Skywalker is not the last Jedi... There is another. Another who is now in possession of the droid containing the map to Luke Skywalker and who is in the company of Finn Ren.” Snoke looked upon Kira Ren with his black, deep-set eyes, awaiting her reaction. 

Kira should have been shocked. She should have been angry at her master’s deception and his lie. She had spent years, literal years, hunting for bits and pieces that would ultimately bring the end of Luke Skywalker and the Jedi. Now there was another?

Ah, but she was Kira Ren. The most feared being in the galaxy, save for her master. More bodies to add to the pile would be no great issue for her. Especially if it was a Jedi. A Jedi with the map to Skywalker. A Jedi in the company of the traitor. She would kill them all. 

“Master, it would only bring me pleasure to see the fall of yet another Jedi to my blade. I will deal with this Jedi, then Skywalker, then the traitor, Finn Ren. Nothing shall stand in my way.” Her voice conveyed the fierce desire to bring pain upon her enemies, to feel the hum of her staff as it split muscle from bone, spilt blood from flesh. “Tell me of this Jedi, and I shall bring you their head.”

Snoke could hear the promise of death in his disciples’ voice. This was why she alone had been chosen by him, plucked from the desert and brought under his wing. Fed and nurtured by the darkness in her soul and his, she had grown literally and figuratively into the most refined yet fierce wielder of the force. He had no qualms or worries about her being tempted into the light, for there was never any light in her to begin with. He had made sure of that, whispering to her in the dead of night, stroking the despair she had felt, day in and day out on that wretched planet. Molding her into the perfect vessel for the darkness to reside, into the perfect Sith.

Instead of answering with tiresome words, Snoke bombarded Kiras mind with images. Flashes of a tall, dark haired man, in brown and beige Jedi robes; a blue lightsaber, the face of Skywalker, the haggard face of the infamous smuggler and Resistance general she knew to be Han Solo, and the face of the Republic Senator turned general, Leia Organa. 

“Another Skywalker; an even sweeter treat.” It seemed that this other Skywalker was the man from her dreams the night before. The force worked in mysterious ways.

Reaching to her head with a steady hand, Kira Ren disengaged her mask, and looked upon her master with eyes shining with promise, and the desire to prove herself once more to Snoke. “By the grace of your training, I shall not be seduced or defeated”.

Snoke gazed into the red eyes of his apprentice, and spoke, “The Jedi goes by the name of Ben Solo. End him, my apprentice, and together we shall eradicate the rest of the Jedi Order. Do not fail me Kira Ren. Go now and bring me the map to Luke Skywalker. Do with Ben Solo and Finn Ren what you wish.” A small, rather menacing smile bedecked the Sith Lords face, matching the one of Kira Ren, before the hologram flickered out of existence, leaving her in the dark chamber.

“As my master wishes” Kira muttered to herself, smirk still upon her face. Replacing her mask, she turned heel and receded from the audience chambers, intent on locating the general, and ultimately this Ben Solo. 

Flinging the force out like a blanket upon The Finalizer, Kira searched for the distinctive, uptight subconscious of Armitage Hux. Any news of the droid was to be relayed to him first, so he was who she would go to.

He was on the bridge, seeming to bark orders at the lower ranking officers with renewed vigor. Of course, was the ginger haired man ever anywhere else, doing anything else?

Navigating her way as quickly as she could through the halls of the star destroyer, stormtroopers parting to allow the Knight of Ren passage, Kira marched onto the bridge once again.

“Ah. Uncanny timing you seem to have, Ren.” Hux called, looking over his shoulder at her slight figure emerging through the blast door. “We’ve just received a comm from one of our informants. The droid appears to be on Takodana, along with several other Resistance operatives. I’ll be sending in a squadron once we make the jump out of light speed. Say, five minutes?” To the untrained eye and ear, General Hux seemed as put together as he always was. Sharp in uniform, even sharper in mind. But Kira could tell from the slight waver in his voice to the tremor in his hands, the encounter with Snoke and news of the defection of Finn Ren had left him somewhat shaken. 

With a slight brush of her shoulder, Kira Ren pressed the feelings of calm through the force and onto Hux. It wouldn’t do to have him come unglued in front of every power holding officer on her ship. No, it most certainly would not. The First Order was composed of vultures, and she trusted Hux too much to allow him to be picked apart by anyone because he was slightly rattled. 

“That sounds perfect, General. See that my shuttle is readied, I’m going to rectify this situation myself”, Kira quietly told the general, before stalking off the bridge. Five minutes would give her time to return to her quarters and change her clothes. She had never been to Takodana before, but had heard stories of the green, tree and lake covered planet. She was sure that on any other day, she might appreciate the beauty if it was as those had said. But not this day. 

Practically running through the halls, and into the living quarters section of her flag ship, Kira finally saw the durasteel of her door. Pulling off a glove and pressing it to the scanning panel, Kira Ren stepped into her quarters and made for the wardrobe. Her arm wrappings would stay in place, but everything else was going down the laundry shoot. A black, sleeveless tunic with wispy, trailing ends, a thick utility belt, and tight, woven leggings would suffice; especially if she encountered the Jedi. She did not care to be ran through with a lightsaber simply because the aesthetic of her outfit restricted her movement. Glancing at the twin thigh holsters hanging from the wall, she summoned them to her waiting hands. Twin obsidian daggers peeked out from the tops on the black leather, as she strapped them to each thigh, slung low right above her knees. Jedi were crafty little shits; the knives may come in handy. And if, perhaps, she ran into Finn Ren in her travels on Takodana… Well, she would most certainly have a need for them.

Stepping into the ‘fresher, Kira released her mask and splashed a palm full of water on her face. Blinking the cool water from her eyes, Kira Ren wasted several seconds gazing at her reflection in the mirror. She was not a vain person, but she did enjoy looking at herself on occasion, seeing as her face was covered almost all the time. She raised her index finger to poke at the slightly less purple bruises under her eyes. 

“Huh. Would you look at that”, she muttered to herself. It seemed that a decent night’s rest did good for the body, as well as the mind. Closing her eyes, Kira inhaled deep, once, then twice, then three times, feeling her chest expand and tighten, centering herself in the Force, in the darkness swirling about her mind.

Opening her golden eyes, she reached down to one of the handful of drawers on her vanity. Pulling out a stick of kohl, Kira began to run it along the lids of her eyes, smudging it out with her finger. She looked mysterious. She hadn’t partaken in the vain ritual in a long while. She always, always wore her mask, so there was no one to see it, but it made her feel grown. Like she was a woman, composed of more than just jagged, sharp edges. It made her feel fierce. It made her feel almost beautiful. 

There you are. 

Straightening her back, replacing her mask and slinging her saber-staff across her back, Kira Ren marched from her quarters, towards the hanger in which her shuttle was kept. The lurch of The Finalizer indicated that the star destroyer had reached its destination. Takodana.

Force help this Ben Solo, for she and her blades would show him no mercy, and she was over-do for a good knock-down, drag-out.

Kira Ren smiled a small, wicked smile to herself. The time had come. 

Peace, it seemed, was indeed a lie. There was only power. There was only passion. Through blood and vengeance and victory, the remaining chains binding her to her past, her weaknesses, would be broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! That's a thing that took me almost a month to churn out. Jumping to Bens POV in the next chapter and back tracking a lil bit. Hopefully the chapters will get a little bit longer, but damn. Writing is hard and stuff. Come see me on tumblr @anotherdamnreyloblog ! Tell me if this sucks please, don't be nice about it either!!!!!111!!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

Ben Organa-Solo absolutely fucking hated sand.

Well, it wasn’t so much the sand that he despised, but rather the planet that he found himself on. The planet that was covered entirely in sand.

Alright, Ben Solo hated sand.

He had set the Falcon down outside of Niima Outpost on kriffing Jakku, having “borrowed” it from his father a handful of years prior. Han had taken to smuggling again, traveling across the galaxy hauling force knows what, and had a need for a larger transport. Soon after, his parents had officially separated. Ben needed a ship to do the bidding of his mother for the Republic. It worked out well, even if the ship was a flying trash heap. His last comm with his father had been two standard weeks ago and Han was running Rathtars for King Prana. He would be lucky if his father and Chewbacca weren’t eaten by the slimy things before he next spoke to the pair of them. 

His mother, the famed General Organa, had sent him on a recovery mission. Poe fucking Dameron had landed his X-Wing at the Tuanul village, and not only managed to get himself captured by the First Order but had managed to get Lor San Tekka himself killed in the process. Ben couldn’t really blame the death of one of his mothers’ oldest allies on Dameron, no matter how reckless the pilot was. The First Order was merciless nowadays, with their little Sith Lord Darth Maul wannabe and its Knights of Rim or whatever they were called, running amuck across the galaxy, slicing innocents in half left and right. Ben rolled his eyes, shaking his head. Dark siders had a flair for the dramatic, that was certain.

Dameron had managed to secure the map leading to his Uncle Luke but had deemed his BB Unit droid capable of watching over the bit of tech before he was captured. Unless the droid had gotten itself swallowed in the sinking fields, the thing should have made its way to Niima. Hopefully it was there already so Ben could be on his way back to the Resistance base on D’Qar, and off the damned sand pit. 

Reaching for his wrist, Ben walked down the gangplank and towards the outpost, grabbing the short leather cord he kept there and reached up to restrain his unruly hair. It was hot enough on the hell planet without his dark mane sticking to his neck.

If anyone but his mother had asked him to do this, he would have told them to switch off, no matter how eager he was to find his uncle. Admiral Ackbar? The Mon Calamari could sit and spin. Vice Admiral Holdo? That demon woman could, outright, go space herself. But, Leia Organa got what Leia Organa wanted, and she wanted the map to the twin brother she hadn’t seen or contacted in years. So; into Niima Outpost Ben trudged, sweat gathering on his brow, with sand slowly making its way into places sand should never be. 

Dodging his way between the dilapidated and wind beaten tents (if one could even call them that), Ben kept his eyes and ears trained for any sign of the little droid. The assortment of scavengers that had come to the outpost to trade their days finds would most likely be the best place for him to start; they would have been some of the first to notice a binary speaking ball rolling across the sands.

A group of Teedos were gathered off to his left, but as soon as Ben made eye contact with one, its eyes seemed to gravitate towards the silver cross-guard hilt of lightsaber bumping against his thigh. After several hastily muttered words to its cohorts, the Teedos scattered.

“Damn it”, he muttered to himself, kicking his boot at yet another pile of sand and watching it scatter in the wind. He wished for his large, hairy uncle. Chewbacca seemed to have no problem forcing people or little green aliens to give him the information he wanted. Probably because he would rip their arms straight out of the sockets if they gave him any shit.

Continuing through the hovel, Ben took in the odd assortment of creatures gathered to barter with their scavenged parts from the wrecked star destroyers that littered the sands. Teedos, humans with leather like skin, and various other alien lifeforms were scattered throughout the place. A few Luggabeasts were standing still as posts, beside a watering hole that Ben decided was probably more dirt, mud, and sand than water, while a few Steelpeckers tried to break apart the various speeders parked atop the sand. 

All the sudden, a dark-skinned man came crashing through the tent to Bens left, seemingly hellbent on making it to the watering hole. Never mind the large creature that was currently occupying it and blowing snot bubbles into the water. The man was solidly built, and even in his near sprint to the water hole, he held his back stick straight, strides almost a march across the sands. Military, Ben was almost certain. Dressed in all black, aside from a familiar looking brown leather jacket, from his calf high leather boots to his long-sleeved tunic. It was a wonder the moron hadn’t fainted from the heat already.

“I told you, I don’t speak that!”, the man rasped over his shoulder, voice rough from the lack of hydration, no doubt. As the man reached the water, Ben caught the flash of red on his forehead, along with a large gash near his right ear. As if on que, an orange and white ball barreled out of the tent the man had come through, ramming him at the back of the knees, speaking in animated beeps and chirps, and the occasional hiss.

Dameron’s force-damned droid. BB-8.

Ben didn’t speak Binary, not even a lick of the language. It wouldn’t take a linguist to determine that the little droid was livid, though.

Perhaps it had something to do with this stranger wearing the flight jacket of Poe Dameron.

Ben got within about three meters of the individual before he finally came up for air, after having dropped to his knees and shoving his entire face in the puddle of filth. In his turn to glare at the small droid, the man seemed to realize that the hulking form of Ben Solo was quickly approaching him, gaze accusing and angry. Before the man could lift himself off his knees, Ben had his right arm out, raised at chest height with his fingers slightly curled, palm out towards the now frozen man. BB-8 blipped and beeped excitedly as he took notice of Ben and proceeded to roll over to him and ram squarely into his shin. Fuck, Ben hated droids, especially this one.

Ben Solo hadn’t tapped into his force abilities on this level in quite some time. Years in fact. Before his uncle had gone into hiding, Luke had advised Ben to cut himself off from the Force entirely, like he planned to do. Once he had realized that force sensitives were being hunted down by the First Order and Snoke, one by one, Luke had sent his students on Yavin IV at the academy back to where ever they had come from and sent the ones without a home or family to go back to, to the budding Resistance and Leia. Luke had then hopped in his X-Wing and was gone before anyone had the common sense to stop him.

Ben simply couldn’t do it. He had tried, at the insistence of his mother and his father, to close himself off from the Force completely, but it was the equivalent of going without one of his other senses; like someone had taken his eyesight or his sense of touch. His mother wasn’t trained enough the manipulation of it for her to have to worry. There was always going to be a price on her head, regardless of her Force abilities. He had lasted less than a week, until he could take it no longer.

For the past six years, Ben Solo had flown under the radar of Snoke, using his Force abilities in small doses, never trying to peek into the unsuspecting mind, or reach his conscious out too far into the universe. He hated not using the Force as it was intended for a former Jedi Knight, but it had kept him alive and hidden. That was all probably blown to shit now though. 

“What, exactly”, Ben spoke through his teeth as he advanced on the paralyzed man, “are you doing with the flight jacket of Poe Dameron and why is the droid belonging to Poe Dameron following you like it’s been possessed?” BB-8 let out a few low beeps, seeming to complain about Bens description of his mechanical self. 

The stranger seemed to struggle with forming words, so Ben loosened his force grip the tiniest bit, allowing the man to work his jaw.

“Dameron! Poe! You know Poe!” He let out a huff of air. “Good, okay, that means you’re with the Resistance, right? Yeah, okay, me too, I’m a big de…” the mans voice trailed off into silence as he took in Bens form, lingering on his lightsaber. “Actually… I’m not with the Resistance. You’re a Jedi, yeah?”

Ben neither denied nor confirmed the others question but continued to give him a hard stare nonetheless. Kriff it. Ben Solo didn’t have time for games, and he missed the power trip riffling through someone’s subconscious gave him. To look for all their secrets, picking and choosing what to linger on, what to toss aside. How very un-Jedi-like of him.

Lurching forward, Ben swiftly walked up to the man, until he was right in his face. Blisters covered his face, no doubt from the harsh sun, and the gash near his ear was caked with sand and sweat. A look of terror creeped upon his face as Ben brought his other hand up and placed his index and middle fingers against the side of his face without the oozing cut.

Bens intrusion to the mans mind was met with surprisingly firm walls. Someone schooled in the ways of the Force then, if he was this adapted at resisting mind intrusion. Perhaps the Stormtrooper training was now including resistance to mind intrusion. “Let me in and I promise, this won’t hurt nearly as bad as it could, you idiot” Ben softly spoke, leaning even closer, opening his eyes to unleash a glare yet again

At his words, most of the walls seemed to fall away.

Ben flipped through the mind of Finn, formerly FN-2187, former stormtrooper for the First Order, like he would pages in a book. Taken as a child like most stormtroopers, brainwashed and beaten, then, another solid wall that could not be broken down, no matter how hard Ben seemed to push. Whatever, the ‘trooper had let him get this far into his brain, the man had the right to keep a secret or two to himself.

Ben glimpsed flashes of black capes and red plasma beams with a dark, foreboding mask; but those were quickly shut behind the impenetrable wall in the far corner of Finns mind. He saw Poe being brought onto the Resurgent Class Star Destroyer, The Finalizer, and then another wall. Finn releasing the restraints and shackles binding Dameron to a cruel looking interrogation rack, with Dameron looking worse for the wear, bloody and bruised. Finn rushing down hallways, dodging fellow stormtroopers, and climbing into a First Order fighter.

A dog fight with a handful of fighters as he and Poe had tried to escape but were struck as they hit Jakkus atmo. Crash landing in the Bad Lands. Finn, searching the wreckage for Poe, and finding nothing except his prized leather jacket, then being confronted by BB-8 hours later, while passing an abandoned AT-AT, the Hellhound II. Making his way to Niima, with the droid beeping at him non-stop the entire way there, not understanding a word of the binary BB-8 spoke. Then water. Ben knew the rest.

“You’re a defect?” Such a thing was unheard of. Stormtroopers were some of the most loyal things in the galaxy, not that they could be anything but; with all the conditioning and reconditioning they had been rumored to go through in the First Order. Ben pulled his hand away from FN-218- no, Finns face, and dropped his other, releasing from both his mental and physical hold. The Force seemed to hum around him after being ignored for so long.

Finn thudded to the ground, unprepared for his release from the Force hold Ben had him in. “Yeah, I’m something like that”, the once-stormtrooper muttered darkly, his steely gaze fixing on the various pedestrians that had gathered near the fringe of the encampment to watch the confrontation and take ration bets on the outcome. BB-8 chose that moment to begin his incessant beeping again, bringing them both out of their slightly shocked states. “Do you have any idea what this ball is trying to say?”

“If I had to guess? He’s probably wondering who the kriff you are since Poe happens to be his master.” Speaking of Poe… Bens cover was, undoubtedly, blown by now. He was almost shocked to not feel the prodding’s of the Sith Lord in his mind already, as he had when he was a boy.

The dark had called to him fiercely as a child at the temple. Dark moods and violence towards fellow padawans had plagued his days and whispers in his mind haunted his nights. With the added one-on-one training from his uncle, Ben had been able to banish the call to the dark side of the Force, though he never grew out of his surly mood or his intolerance for others.

Digging his small comm link from the pocket of his pants and shaking the sand out of it (truly, he could not wait to get off the sand pit of a backwater planet), he opened his channel to the private line he kept with his mother. “I’ve got the droid, as well as a tag-along. Your second son is somewhere out in the Badlands. Do you want me to go find him, or may I leave him to shrivel into leather?” Ben spoke into the comm, awaiting feedback from his mother’s end.

The droid beside him let out a series of squawks, and Ben would bet his lightsaber that he had been told to “sit and spin” in binary. He wouldn’t put it past the droid to hijack the Falcon and go looking for Poe itself.

The comm unit in Bens hand screeched with static, Finn flinching at the shrill noise. “Negative Ben, get the droid and get out, comm channels have just started chattering about squadrons of troopers landing right outside of Niima, and all over Jakku.” Shit. Kriff. Shit. “They’re looking for BB-8, and some escapee. There’s a rumor that someone high up in the chain of command defected.” A storm trooper was the lowest on the proverbial First Order totem pole, next to a mouse droid. High up was a stretch. “You get off that planet, with the droid. Let us worry about Poe. He’s had a binary beacon wrapped around some unmentionable body part for years., we’ll be able to find him as soon as those Star Destroyers are out of the way. I’ll see you and that hell robot soon. I love you Ben. Over and out.” Ben would bet he knew exactly where Dameron kept that binary beacon, the kinky bastard.

Leia sounded in a state. Her son on a mission, in hostile territory and her best pilot (her favorite child) missing. Her “General Organa Voice” was dripping with tension, the no-nonsense attitude of a general and princess firmly in place. Ben didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye before she had disconnected and shut her end of the comm down. 

“Shit, we gotta go then. You gotta ship so we can get outta here?” Finn stood from his crouch in the sand, and started to scan the tents, like some sort of watch dog. “Anyone from the First Order is bound to know about the price they’ve probably put on my head, so if we could bounce, sooner than later…” he trailed off, glancing at Ben, and wringing his hands nervously.

Ben looked at the ex-trooper, eyebrows raised, “We? There is no we in this situation! Good on you for choosing to leave, but I’m taking this droi-!”

Blaster fire cut over Bens statement, damn near taking his ear off as well.

Ben Solo didn’t think. One second, he was mid-sentence, then next, his lightsaber was in his hands, a brilliant blue blur with an ancient cross-blade design, deflecting the barrage of blaster bolts back towards the sand dunes with a fury and a scowl. The ‘troopers must not have anticipated return fire, because after a few short seconds, the fire ceased, and a battalion of skull heads emerged over the sand dunes at a jog, white armor glinting in the sun. 

“Follow me!” he yelled, yanking Finn by the arm and breaking into a sprint through the maze of tents. BB-8 whirled behind them, dodging flaps of fabric and trader’s shins alike. Practically dragging the seemingly exhausted Finn, Ben ran as fast as his long legs could carry him, dodging incoming blaster bolts, but never stopping.

Ben Solo, Jedi Knight of the Resistance, was not going to die by a blaster to the back on kriffing Jakku.

“Where are we going?!” Finn screamed in his ear.

There! The carbon scored hull of the Falcon had never looked more beautiful to Ben in his life. Twenty meters away from the ramp. They could make it. The garbled voices of the ‘troopers in pursuit rose with the wind, along with the sound of ion engines.

Airstrike. Shit.

“GO, GO GO!” Ben screamed, eyeing the fast approaching fighters swooping in from the west. BB-8 churned the sand up and into the air as he wheeled himself towards the ramp, Finn following close, with Ben bringing up the rear. Sprinting up the ramp, Ben used the force to seal the door, effectively shutting out the swarm of ‘troopers hot on their tails. The ground shook with the force of plasma cannons from the TIEs missing their intended target.

“Gunner position is down there”, Ben slid past Finn without another word, heading towards the cockpit and not bothering to check to see if the man even bothered with using the ladder. The echoing “thunk” of boots hitting durasteel hard hinted at a no. 

Ben slammed down in the captain’s seat of the cockpit, desperately wishing for a copilot, even with the assistance the Force provided. Flipping switches with the Force only did so much to assist him. A physical copilot was an extra set of eyes, someone to keep a lookout incase things got even hairier than they already were. Strapping himself into the chair, Ben felt the telltale lurch and groan of the freighter lifting off the sands. Finns yelp sounded through the speakers above him. “Alright, time to go” he muttered to himself, eyeing the pair of fighters dropping in for another pass at the Falcon. 

The dogfight that ensued was over fairly quickly, the Falcon breaking atmo and making for a hyperlane with hardly any extra scorch marks added to the patchwork hull. Two First Order TIEs were now nothing but scraps of metal, half buried underneath the sand, and a handful of storm troopers going along the same lines. Finn, as it turned out, was an excellent gunner after he got the hang of things. His whoops of triumph after landing a hit on the second fighter had made Ben roll his eyes. 

Well enough away from the fleet of First Order vessels, Ben took a few minutes to slow his racing heart while coasting through open space. It wasn’t the closest he had ever come to being blown out of the sky, but it was definitely not something he intended to make a habit of. The loss of life should have had Ben in a state of mourning, most of the lives lost being ‘troopers that didn’t know any other way of life than the one they had been living when they died. Ben should have felt sorry for them, for those given no opportunity to run, to find forge another path, another destiny. He should have. 

He didn’t.

Ben Solo had never been a particularly good Jedi, per say. A Jedi, certainly, knighted by the famed Luke Skywalker and all, but that didn’t make him an inherently good person. Luke always said he was too much like his father that way. He felt no remorse for taking part in the killing of the pilots that flew those fighters. For the division of ‘troopers sent by some uptight First Order general to lay waste to him. It wasn’t to say that killing and the thrill of battle got him off, he didn’t bathe in the blood of his enemies (that, he would leave to the First Order and the Sith attack dog they kept). Ben just… didn’t take too kindly to being shot at. And didn’t feel anything close to guilt for shooting back. 

“That” the sound of boots slapping against the rungs of the ladder shook Ben out of his mental hiatus, “was insane my man!” Ben stood and walked out of the cockpit to help pull Finn up from the tunnel. “I for sure thought we were done for! You’re a mad pilot!”

Finns grin was infectious. Ben couldn’t help the small smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Not too bad on a gun yourself”.

“So,” Finn said, eyeing the dejarik table and plopping down on one of the benches surrounding it. “What exactly, do we do now? I’m wanted, this ship is more than likely marked, so that means you’re wanted, and that droid is more wanted than the both of us combined.” BB-8 chirped at the mention, rolling out from the nook he had crammed himself into.

Sighing, Ben reached into the pocket of his pants and shook the sand from his commlink yet again. He didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t. Opening the channel to another private line, Ben waited for the person on the opposite end to pick up the call.

“Hey kid!” Han Solos gruff voice sounded entirely too cheerful for the day Ben was having. “What can I do for ya?”

Ben let out a huff. Pinching the bridge of his sharp nose between his pointer finger and thumb, he closed his eyes as he began to speak. “Listen dad, some shit happened on this mission I’m running for mom and I’m in a tight spot. Send me your coordinates. Please… I think--I need some help.”

Han agreed immediately to shoot the coordinates along to the nav system onboard the Falcon, assuring Ben that he could make the trip to wherever he and Chewie were within the next few standard hours if he made the jump to lightspeed along the Corellian Run. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.” Ben made his way back to the cockpit, closing down the connection between him and Han Solo before Han could pepper him with questions about his mission or the trouble he had found himself in. Finn followed, stepping back as Ben squeezed his overly long legs into the pilots’ seat yet again to prime the hyperdrive for the jump to light speed. 

“You never answered my question. What. Do. We. Do?” Finn said, emphasizing the question.

“Yes, Hi I’m Ben Solo, I’m thrilled to make your acquaintance”. Finns eyebrows shot up at Bens tone. His sour mood had worked its way into his voice. He had a headache brewing behind his temple, and obviously the storm trooper behind him didn’t comprehend that this was doing something. Hitting hyperspace. Finding Han. Hopefully finding someone to ship the ‘trooper off to the outer rim and take him off of Bens hands before Ben committed homicide. All that would help Ben to get back on track, so he could finish his mission and get home. 

“Look” Ben started, “today has gone to complete shit for me, and I’m sure you as well.” He gestured to the copilot’s seat, and Finn hesitantly dropped down into it, all the while keeping his eyes on Ben. Probably making sure Ben didn’t make a grab for his lightsaber so he could be rid of his extra passenger all-together. “I’m taking us to my father. He can probably help get you somewhere way beyond where the First Order will ever think to look for you. Hang on to your ass.” Ben punched the hyper drive, and the telltale blue lines of hyperspace travel graced the window of the cockpit.

“There’s a medkit in one of the cabinets in the galley. How’s about you clean some of the blood off your face, and you try to rest a bit, yeah?” He was quickly losing patience with Finn and his endless questions. In reality, Ben could care less about the blood spatter decorating Finns dark skin, or whether or not he applied bacta to his wounds. All Ben wanted was to be left alone for the few hours he had until he had to deal with his father and his antics. 

BB-8 could be heard whirling about the ship, somewhere, doing only Force-knows what. 

“I don’t need to clean myself up, I need to know what is going on, what we’re going to do! Who even are you!?”

“I already told you”, Ben growled “I’m Ben Solo. We’re going to meet with my father and figure out what to do with your incessant ass. Then I’m going to take this droid back to my mother, and by the Force, I’m going to sleep for days.”

At the mention of his mother, Finns eyes seemed to light up. “Wait… Han Solo.” Finn clapped his hands together in realization. “Your mother is the Resistance general! Organa, isn’t it?”

Bens closed his eyes and breathed out hard through his nose, hand clenching around the armrest. “Yes, you kriffing idiot. My mother is a general, my father was a general and is wanted in every known system for smuggling. Can we please move past this never-ending conversation?”

“Wait! No! No, we have to talk about this! This is incredible! You’re a Jedi! I thought the First Order had hunted you all to extinction, Skywalker is the only one left!”

Ben flinched at the mention of the Jedi that had been cut down in cold blood. He had been lucky. Careless in his miniscule use of the Force, but lucky he hadn’t yet been found by the Sith Lord that ruled over the First Order.

“I don’t have to talk about anything with you. Consider yourself lucky I’m even getting you this far. I am, in fact, going to try and get some rest.” Ben stood and stooped over to exit the cockpit. Turning back to the man in still sitting in the copilot’s seat, Ben narrowed his eyes and said, “wake me up when we come out of hyperspace. Don’t try to screw with anything. If you do…” Ben tapped his fingers to his head, maintain eye contact with Finn. “I’ll know”. 

Ben didn’t check to see if Finn stayed in the cockpit or moved to another part of the ship. All he cared about was the dark, soft, too short bunk waiting for him. Grabbing a canteen of water from the counter-top of the galley, Ben upturned it and had downed every last drop by the time he had made it to the row of bunks along the wall. 

Dropping his large frame onto the mattress, Ben swung his legs into the too small space, and reached up to yank his boots off. Sand poured out of them, straight onto his sheets. With a mighty groan, he flopped his head back onto his pillow and shut his eyes, wondering how he had managed to not only procure the droid he had been on the hunt for, but also some sort of ex-stormtrooper runaway. Along with, evidently, half of the surface of Jakku.

Ben Solo fucking hated sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was literal hell to write, hence it taking forever to churn out. Ben Solo is just as moody as Kylo Ren and I'm honestly living for it. Comments make my day. Lemme know what you think!


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